


You'll be mine and I'll be yours.

by imaginedraquns



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedraquns/pseuds/imaginedraquns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is scared, so fucking scared and Louis is the new addition to his small group of friends that wants to change that.</p><p>or the one where Harry has a dark past and works in a coffee shop, Zayn is the only person to keep him sane and Louis comes into his life with snowflakes, presents and Taylor Swift quotes and is determined to sweep him off his feet in 24 days (but really needs 365 of them instead).</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll be mine and I'll be yours.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for a contest and won it. I'm quite happy about that. The guidelines were Harry-centric, fluff and to include 'Everything has changed' by Taylor Swift. I hope you like it! :)

Christmas music is silently playing in the background and the shop windows are decorated with light chains and Santa Clause, snowmen, reindeer figures and fake snow. There used to be a time that Harry enjoyed everything that was even slightly related to Christmas but that time felt like it was years ago. The curly-haired boy did complement Niall though for his decorating skills and the Irish lad beamed at him before turning his attention to the next customer.  


Harry had only started working at the coffee shop two months ago and he couldn’t really say if he liked it or not. There were his co-workers, Niall and Liam, two nice guys that helped him get accustomed to everything as good as possible but sometimes it all got too much for Harry. When there was a queue and he was alone for minutes, because one of the lads had left for his break he often felt his chest tighten and his breath becoming faster and faster until he didn’t know how to properly breathe anymore.  
Niall or Liam had to pull him out, sit him down in the employee room and tell him to calm down (“Inhale and exhale deeply, alright mate? It’s okay!”) and left him alone while dealing with the confused queue of people outside. It was the reason why they mostly let Harry make the coffees and not work the register anymore. That and the fact that Harry could make an excellent Latte Macchiato or whatever type of coffee the customers wanted. Liam liked to jokingly say that Harry probably had coffee pulsing through his veins because he was so good at it. He had never liked coffee before (which was odd, Harry quite often thought. Why would you work at a coffee shop if you didn’t like coffee?) but after drinking one of Harrys coffees he had found himself quite liking it. Harry would always laugh at Liams joking but deep inside he would correct him because no, he knew for sure that there was blood inside his body, had seen it more than once trickling down his thighs or seeping out of his wrists, had washed it away so many times from his back, still has the reminders of the belt, the knife, the fingernails slicing his skin all over his body.  


“You’re with me, mate?” Niall asked amused and Harry snapped out of his thoughts, blinked a couple of times before the blur in front of his eyes became focused again. Niall grinned lopsidedly and pushed a tray into Harrys’ hands. “Would you mind cleaning the tables for me?”  
  
Harry nodded dumbfounded, still a little bit stuck in his thoughts, before scurrying away and doing as he was told. He was only at his third table, balanced the small plates and cups on his tray while wiping the sometimes sticky surface of the table, when the door opened and in came a grumpy looking Zayn, red-faced and with snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes.  


Zayn was Harrys best friend, always was and always will be and basically he was also the reason why Harry even worked here. (“Harry, you know I love you.” He ignored the slight flinching of his friend, who was sprawled out on the couch in the shared flat and hadn’t moved for hours. “But it can’t continue like this. Adam is gone, he’s not coming back.” Harry flinched again and barked louder, than he intended to: “Don’t ever say his name again, never ever again!” Zayn just ignored him, was used to his behavior: “Listen, all I want to say is that you have to get back on your own feet again. It’s been months and I understand that it’s rough, but you should really start to live in the real world again. There’s this cozy coffee shop, not too far away from here and my friend Liam works there. He told me the other day that they look for a new co-worker. You could try it, right? If you don’t like it, you’ll quit but you’ll never know, maybe you’ll enjoy working there. Just please, please, give it a chance!” And of course Harry had listened to Zayn because he loved him as well, just couldn’t admit it, not after loving had become such a painful thing to him, and handed in an application half a week later. It’s needless to say that he got the job and he owned it to Zayn. He owned a lot to Zayn.)  


Niall greats Zayn cheerily, already used to the boy coming in every day ten minutes before Harrys shift ends, today being at 10 p.m., the general closing time for the shop.  
“You know what would be nice right now- a Chai Latte that would be really nice right now.”  
And Harry abandons the tables he’s supposed to clean and runs to the machine, making Zayn what he asked for, filling it into a plastic cup so Zayn can take the drink home and as Zayn seats himself on a chair and smiles thankfully as Harry brings his cup over, Niall just shouts: “Yes Zayn, of course it’s on the house!” sarcastically and Zayn just laughs, because of course it’s on the house. When there are no other customers around anymore, everything he wants, Zayn gets for free.  
It’s probably his cheekbones, Harry thinks sometimes. No one can resist those gorgeous cheekbones and his jaw line.  


So Harry goes back to cleaning the tables, while Zayn sips on his Chai Latte and watches the snowstorm outside and Niall does whatever else there is to be done before they close the shop for the night when the door opens up again and in comes a boy, probably in his early twenties (would it be more appropriate to call him a man then?).  
“Bloody snowstorm!” he cusses and Harry flinches slightly, because after all this time he still hates when someone cusses.  
The man looks up, he’s packed into a thick jacket and a scarf is tightly wrapped around his neck and all three boys in the room look at him. Most people would feel rather uncomfortable in this situation but he just starts to smile so fucking bright that Harry thinks he might be looking at the sun right now and starts to talk in a high-pitched voice that sounds like the one of an angel. Harry wants to hit his head against a wall at the thought.  
“I’m really sorry, this is really late, I can see that you’re about to close but could you maybe please be kind enough to sell a frozen man one more cup of coffee tonight?”  
  
Niall starts to laugh out of nowhere (because that's what Niall does) and points at the stranger. “I like you, man. What do ya want? Harry, come over here! I need your unbelievable coffee skills.”  
And Harry would really rather stay where he is at the moment but he doesn’t want to disobey Niall either because disobeying means getting hurt and even if Zayn tells him often enough that “No Harry, you don’t have to do what you’re told all the time!” he still has this thing in him, the tiny voice that tells him to do as he’s told because he doesn’t want to be in pain again.  
So he gets behind the coffee machine and waits for the guys order. He starts working on it while the man still pays and Niall asks: “What’s your name, by the way? You know we’ve got to write it on your cup so no one else can steal your drink.”  
And the guy laughs and tells him that his name is Louis and to anyone it would sound like Niall was flirting with this guy (Louis, Harry reminded himself) but once you get to know Niall better that’s just how he normally talks to people. Harry writes the word ‘Louis’ on the cup in his messy handwriting and once the drink is finished, he slides it over the counter.  
“Cheers mate!” Louis beams at him and Harry just nods and quickly starts cleaning the coffee machine.  
  
“You don’t mind me staying in here until you guys head out, do you?” Louis asks. “Because it’s so freezing outside and I’d really appreciate the possibility of being able to warm up for just a little bit.”  
Of course Niall doesn’t deny Louis’ request (“No man, just suit yourself. Go and talk to Zayn or something.)” though Harry would have hoped that he’d do. He’s already fidgety and nervous today and was looking forward to being surrounded by only people he knows, people who don’t push him to the edge of his comfort zone all the time but there is this beautiful stranger now, sitting next to Zayn and starting a quiet conversation with him while Niall and Harry finished up cleaning the store.  


“We’re good to go!” Niall announced happily only a few minutes later and grabbed the keys. “And Josh and a couple of pints are waiting for me. Hurry up lovelies!”  
Zayn and Louis got up lazily and Zayn left the shop first while Niall turned off the lights. Louis was right behind Zayn but instead of just going through the door, he held it open for Harry, motioned him to walk through and couldn’t suppress a smirk as Harry stumbled and nearly fell down the one stair that leads up to the shop. A blush crept up his cheeks (he would blame it on the cold though) and his heartbeat increased drastically. He heard Louis chuckle, who also held Niall the door open and then they all kind of separated into all different kind of directions, Niall shouting after Harry to have a nice day off tomorrow and Louis calling over to Zayn to text him.  
“You exchanged numbers?” Harry asked as Zayn led the younger boy over to his car.  
Zayn just shrugged his shoulders. “He seemed like a decent guy to have fun with. Guess we’ll meet up sometimes.” Harry didn’t press the subject anymore, just quickly slipped into the car and let out a relieved sigh because he was in the warmth and also because this day was over and he didn’t have to face more people anymore.

Zayns’ head popped into Harrys’ room the next morning at 10 a.m., way too early for Harrys’ liking although the boy had already been awake since two hours, been woken up by a vivid nightmare (that really was a memory after all). He refused to get out of bed though, was wrapped into the blanket like a burrito. Maybe he was hungry and maybe he needed to pee kind of really bad already, but the prospect of standing up right now was really not a pleasant thought.  
  
“You don’t mind us having a visitor, do you?” Zayn asked and he was biting his lower lip, something he tended to do when he was nervous and that was all it took for Harry to figure out that whoever was supposed to come over was not Perrie, Liam or Niall, one of the only people he was kind of comfortable with nowadays.  
  
“Who?” Harry asked and his voice was rough from sleep.  
  
“It’s Louis. We want to play some FIFA.” And Harry grunts like he doesn’t care but deep down he does and Zayn knows so. “You don’t have to worry. You won’t be alone with him for one single second.”  
  
“I’m not worried!” Harry muttered. They both knew it was a lie but Zayn didn’t acknowledge it, closed the door to Harrys’ room instead and left the younger boy alone.  
  
The curly-haired boy stayed in bed for another thirty minutes before he got up, the need to use the toilet becoming too big for him. He grabbed some new clothes- might as well take a quick shower when he’s in the bathroom already- and sprinted through the hall into the white-tiled room. Louis seemed to not have arrived yet.  
  
Harry brushed his teeth before he undressed and stepped under the hot shower water. Steam filled the small room rather quickly because Harry liked to shower really damn hot. Once he stepped out of the cubicle, the mirror was fogged over and maybe that was one of the reasons Harry liked his showers hot, because he didn’t like to see the shirtless appearance of his upper body in the mirror and through fogging the mirror over he didn’t have to worry about it at all. He was fucked up, he knew that but the scars were reminders that he wanted to forget and not seeing meant not remembering (or maybe just not remembering as much).  
After drying his hair and getting dressed he finally left the bathroom, only to be welcomed by two different voices. The one of Zayn was familiar and soothing but the one of Louis was upsetting and unnerving. He had planned on relaxing on the couch today and to watch Doctor Who reruns but that plan seemed to have failed now.  
Instead he tiptoed back into his room, careful as to not make any unnecessary sounds that could give away his presence and make Zayn call him to the living room. He was still hungry but to get to the kitchen meant to go through the other room and well, Harry was really fucked.

Hours passed and he just lay in his bed, didn’t move a bone. Harry could hear Zayn and Louis laughing a lot of times. He hoped that Zayn had a good time because Zayn could need more friends. He knew that he was the reason why Zayn was held back of having the social life he actually deserved but the dark-haired boy always told him to not worry about it because Harry was all he wanted (and maybe Perrie, his fiancé, but Harry knew that anyway).  
There was a gentle knock on Harrys’ door and before he could even give permission to whoever knocked to enter, it was opened and Zayn walked inside with a bottle of apple juice, a plate filled with fruits and an apologizing smile on his lips.  
“I figured you’re hiding here. I’m sorry I haven’t thought about it earlier but only after Louis asked where you are I remembered. Brought you something.” Zayn set down the plate and the bottle and ruffled Harrys’ hair softly. “You really should come out of the room, you know? Louis is really nice and he said he wanted to meet you again.”  
  
Harry shook his head and Zayn sighed, looked like he wanted to say more but let it go anyway. He left the room just as quick as he entered it. Harry was left behind with the fruits and started eating them. 

Some days were so hard, just so hard and he was so sad, so so sad especially when Zayn was with a friend and Harry knew that it could be his friend as well, that it would be so easy to make a friend if he just wasn’t so scared all the time, so fucked up. But Harry just was fucked up. He flinched away from touches, was distant and scared and always sure that whoever he was with wanted to hurt him. He barely talked to strangers. And he hated Adam, hated him so much for taking away his life and turning him into such a freak.  
  
Harry hadn’t realized that he started crying until Zayn stormed into the room, followed by a worried looking Louis who stopped in the doorway. He felt himself being engulfed by Zayns’ arms, pressed to his body and calmed down by gentle words and soft touches that were familiar enough to him to know that they didn’t mean any harm. The sobs ached in his chest and he hated the wetness on his cheeks.  
“You’re okay Harry, it’s okay.” Zayn rocked him back and forth like a baby and Harry felt so ridiculous about it but both of them knew that it was what actually calmed the boy.  
  
“I think you should go now, Louis!” Zayn murmured into the direction of the other lad and Harry saw Louis nod.  
“Yes of course I’ll leave. I… I guess I see you? I hope you’re feeling better soon Harry?” His sentences sounded like questions, so unsure of what he was supposed to say. Harry didn’t blame him for that though. Most of the people who had to deal with his panic attacks didn’t know how to handle them, not even his mum.  
Only ever Zayn knew what to do.

The next day at work Harry felt miserable. To be honest Harry always felt miserable but on that specific day he felt even worse. There was a new girl, her name was Eleanor, working with them and Liam only ever talked to her, barely acknowledged Harry. He understood it though. Liam had to train her, get her used to the job here and well, Liam was straight and even though he had a girlfriend it was kind of obvious that he’d rather talk to the pretty and young lady now working with them than him.  
Harry had spent the rest of the day yesterday on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and Zayns’ arms and watching Doctor Who and being sad, so incredibly sad. His tears had dried but the sadness had stayed, just like it always did, followed him through the night and clung to him like his shadow now while he was at work, nervously fidgeting around while he had to take peoples orders while Liam showed Eleanor how to work the coffee machine (she’ll never make a coffee as good as Harrys’ though and both Harry and Liam knew that). 

Days passed and Eleanor turned out to be a sweet girl, Niall and Liam turned their attention partly back to Harry again after getting over the fact that there now was a _female_ co-worker with them and Zayn turned out to enjoy Louis’ company a lot, seeing as they met nearly every day, but never in Harrys’ and Zayns’ shared flat anymore after ‘the incident’, as Harry liked to call it, happened. The curly-haired lad didn’t mind at all since he had his safe haven back.  
It was the end of November and nearly impossible to escape the Christmas spirit now, since everyone already had Santa Clause hanging from their balcony or reindeers standing in the window. Some of the radio stations even started playing Christmas songs and the Coca Cola commercial was constantly on television (Harry loved it though because it reminded him of his childhood and his childhood had been such a safe place).  
  
“The lads and I are going out tonight!” Niall announced on a windy Thursday, the one that Americans celebrated Thanksgiving at. He swirled around. “And you” he pointed at Eleanor “and you are going to join us!” he finished off with a huge grin and a look in his eyes that didn’t leave any space for arguments.  
  
“Who are the lads?” Eleanor asked curiously while cleaning some of the porcelain mugs. It was close to the closing time and Zayn hadn’t showed up yet which made Harry quite anxious and now he knew why his friend wasn’t here. They had planned this little get together and there was no way to escape if Harry didn’t have someone to bring him home because Zayn knew exactly that Harry was too scared to walk alone in the dark, even if it was just a few blocks. The monsters could be everywhere.  
  
“Zayn, Liam, my mate Josh, Liams’ girlfriend Sophia, Zayns’ fiancé Perrie and Louis.”  
  
Eleanor didn’t object to Nialls’ idea but Harry could already feel the bile rising in his throat from nerves. There’s no way he could escape this now. So when Eleanor excitedly chatted with Niall and asked him where they were going and if the other two girls were nice, Harry just silently cleared the tables and wiped them while trying to tell himself to calm down and that it would be okay. He and his demons both knew that it wouldn’t be.

The pub they went to was completely filled and the loudness made Harry instinctively flinch away. He already hated this. At least the other guys had already been there and managed to get a table for the nine of them. Harry was greeted by hugs and kisses to his left and right cheek by the girls and he wanted to rub his skin where it was touched, wanted to shower the feeling away.  
Zayn immediately took the boy under his wing, seated him between Perrie and him because Perrie was the only one besides Zayn to know what had happened and that Harry needed it, needed the protection and the assurance that no one could get to him. His protective wall as Harry liked to call it stood perfect for the first two hours. He was silent, sometimes listened to some of the conversations that went on around him but mostly he just zoned out and dreamed of being at a better place.  
He hadn’t realized when Zayn had left to get a new round of drinks for the table (Harry stayed with orange juice because only the smell of alcohol could bring out bad memories for him that he currently tried to suppress). Perrie was currently in a deep conversation with Sophia and Eleanor over some make-up brand or cloth-brand or whatever, Harry didn’t really care. He cared though about the body that suddenly sat next to him, too small to be Zayns and every muscle in his body tensed.  
  
“Hi.” Louis. His voice was loud but just loud enough for Harry to hear him over the rest of the noises at the bar. His chestnut brown hair was swept to one side and when Harry looked up he thought he saw something along the lines of caution written in Louis’ blue eyes but he was probably just imagining it.  
He shrank in on himself and bit out a silent “Hello”, too silent for Louis to actually hear. The boys’ eyes were drained on Harrys’ lips though and as he saw the small movement of them, he smiled.  
“I hope you’re feeling better now. Been kind of worried about you to be honest and I thought about checking up on you but that might be coming across as a little bit creepy.” He scratched the back of his neck and Harry could tell that it was supposed to be a joke (well, kind of at least) but Adam had been controlling and stopping at his workplace to see how he was is kind of controlling and Harry really wanted some fresh air right now but there was no way to get away from where he was right now. “This might seem very forward but Zayn told me that you swing for my team and I just wanted to know if you’d be interested to go out on a date with me?”  
  
As soon as the words left Louis’ lips, Harry was out of his seat and bolted out of the pub. He heard various voices scream his name but he ignored them, pushed through the mass of people with all his strength, panicking that one of them might grab for him, hold him in place, hold him so Louis could get to him, that Adam could get to him, tell him he love him, only hurt him. The tears made everything a blur but eventually Harry did get out of the pub, the cold winter air giving him chills as he was only standing there with a T-Shirt and the snowflakes melted as soon as they came in contact with his hot skin.  
  
There were hands grabbing his shoulders from behind and he screamed until there was Zayns’ voice, telling him to take deep breaths and that everything would be okay again. 

Harry didn’t really know how he got home that night but the next day he woke up in his bed, still dressed in the clothes from the night before. Zayn greeted him with a mug of green tea and smiled at him sadly.  
“You gave us a right scare last night, Harry!” he said and sat down on the edge of the bed.  
Harry whispered a half-hearted “I’m sorry” and sipped from the mug, enjoyed the burning feeling of the hot liquid in his mouth.  
  
“Louis called me a hundred times already today.” Harry froze at Zayns’ words. “Told me what happened, what made you run away. It’s cool mate, don’t worry about it but he was worried about what he did wrong.” Harry shrugged his shoulders lazily.  
“Kind of my fault though, isn’t it? I left you alone, I should have seen it coming. Saw the way Louis eyed you all night. If I would have stayed it wouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry mate.”  
  
Harry tries to ignore the nauseous feeling in his stomach when hearing that Louis looked at him. “It’s not your fault, Zayn. Don’t apologize.”  
  
“The other guys have called as well. They all want to know what’s going on.”  
  
Harry groaned. “You haven’t told them now, have you?”  
  
Zayn shakes his head slowly from left to right. “Of course not. But they will most likely bombard you with questions when you get back to work.”  
  
“They can’t know though. They’d treat me like a freak.”  
  
“I don’t treat you like a freak now, do I?”  
  
“No, but you’ve been there from-” he fell silent, trying to figure out the right word to say. “From the beginning, I guess.”  
  
“They know that something’s up though. You can’t hide from them forever, you know?” Harry scowled and put the mug down on his nightstand before crawling back under the blanket until only his brown curls peeked out on top. “Maybe not forever, but I’ll hide from them as long as it’s possible.”  
  
True to his words, Harry asked Zayn to call in sick for him. It was obvious that everyone knew that Harry wasn’t really sick but no one dared to say anything against it. Thanks to that Harry had the opportunity to stay at home in his bed for three more days. 

On Sunday, the first advent weekend of the year and also the first day of December, he actually made his way to work because it was only Eleanor and him that day and he didn’t want to leave her all alone so early in. His anxiety was crawling under his skin when he made his way to the coffee shop. The minute Eleanor saw him walk in her jaw dropped.  
“You came.” She stated flabbergasted and Harry nodded his head slowly.  
“Just- just don’t ask any questions please.” Eleanor did what he asked from her and after the first few hours the shaking in his hands finally subsided. Eleanor took over the register and Harry had not once needed to talk to customers that day which made it a better day.  
  
Later that day when he arrived home- the coffee shop only had opened until 7 p.m. on Sundays, a time of the day that Harry was actually able to walk home alone- he found a small package in front of his door. Without much thought he picked it up, thinking that it was for Zayn. When he saw the neat but unknown handwriting on the envelope though that said that the package was addressed to him, his heart sank into his stomach. Who would send him a package? And suddenly his thoughts were going insane and oh my god did Adam find him? Did he get out of prison and figure out where Harry lived to terrorize him again? Harry locked the door behind himself, checked that every window was closed and abandoned the small package on the kitchen table, not looking at it once in fear of what might be inside.  
  
Zayn had been at an art gallery that day, came home three hours after Harry. “Mind telling me why there’s an unopened package at the table?” he asked Harry and the boy just shrugged. “Didn’t want to open it.”  
  
“It’s not from Adam, you know that, right?”  
  
Harry looked up at Zayn from where he was currently sitting on the floor (the carpet next to his bed was just so fluffy that he spent most of his time sitting there) and reading a book. “How do you know?”  
  
Zayn just grinned knowingly, like he was in on the plan that Harry wasn’t in and it made him very happy. “I just do. Now go ahead and open it.”  
  
Only after Zayn went to bed that night Harry dared to actually take the package into his room. His fingers were shaking as he unwrapped the sparkling paper, only to find a small box of chocolate, his favorite kind of chocolate to be exact. He took the envelope and carefully opened it to find a little sticky note inside, that was written on in the same messy (but to Harry unknown) handwriting as his name on the envelope.

_And all I've seen since 18 hours ago is green eyes and freckles and your smile (not actually your smile, but I wish I would have seen it because I bet it would look gorgeous)._

Harry feels like he got hit by a truck because someone out there is sending him chocolate and little notes, quoting his favorite singer Taylor Swift to him. Someone is thinking about him and he doesn’t know how to deal with that because Adam always thought about him and his fingers are shaking even more now and somehow he ends up in Zayns’ room, under his blanket and wrapped up in his arms, murmuring under tears how he wants no one to think about him and his eyes.  
Zayn kisses his forehead gently and tells him that it will be okay (because Zayn always tells him that it will be.)

Harry had mostly forgotten about the package, had hid the box of chocolate in the darkest corner of his closet and carried on his life like nothing had happened. At least until two days later, when Liam all of a sudden stood in front of him in the coffee shop with a small box in his hand, this time wrapped up in red paper with a golden bow on top of it and another small envelope attached.  
Harrys’ eyes widen drastically and Liam chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s not from me!” He gives Harry a gentle pad on the back that makes the younger boy flinch away. Liam pretends to not notice (because Liam is a puppy and Harry can see in his eyes that he has so many questions but never asks). He sets the small box on the counter. There’s no business right now and Harry excuses himself with the box into the employee room, where he sets it on the table.  
Liam and Zayn both apparently know who it is, the one who is playing games with him. And deep inside Harry has a nagging feeling that it is Louis, because Louis wanted a date with him but he tries to ignore that because Louis is friends with Zayn and was at his flat before and may be at his flat again and when he’s at the flat while Harry is at the flat he can do to Harry whatever he wants to and- Harry really doesn’t want to go there in his mind. So he stores the thought away, prays to god that it’s not Louis, this gorgeous boy that he finds so beautiful but is so scared of at the same time because his eyes are blue, just like his eyes were and it reminds him and he just doesn’t want to be reminded.  
  
He opens the box and inside is a small red velvet cupcake, with white cream and red hearts sprinkled on top of it. It lands in the garbage can pretty fast (though it looks delicious but Harry just can’t keep it). The cupcake is quickly joined there by an envelope and a small sticky note that said:

_And all your walls stood tall painted blue but I'll take them down, take them down and open up the door for you._

Harry promised himself to strengthen his walls, to make them impossible to crumble down.

For a week Harry lived in freedom. There were no small boxes appearing out of nowhere with Taylor Swift song quotes (maybe he changed his mind and she wasn’t his favorite artist anymore). He ordered Christmas presents online because he didn’t feel capable of going outside, to all the stores that were crowded at this time of the year and even put up a mistletoe over the front door just for the sake of it. There always were a lot of groans from Zayn and squeals from Perrie when she came over and smacked a kiss on Zayns’ lip with the excuse of standing under the mistletoe.  
  
Today Perrie had a flower crown on top of her head and Harry frowned. It was made out of tulips (he hadn’t even known that there were flower crowns made out of tulips) and a really weird coincidence, because lately, wherever Harry went, he found tulips.  
There was a whole bouquet of them in every different color at the coffee shop (“Look how lovely they look. Don’t they already give you a feeling of spring in this cold winter?” Eleanor had asked in excitement as she came in with them), there were tulips in the staircase up to his flat, always red once, lying there abandoned and on their own and he just had to pick them up and safe them from harsh feet and there were tulips on his wall, a painting that Zayn had done himself and given to Harry because “They are your favorite flowers, right?”. It was a beautiful painting.  
  
“I like your flower crown!” Harry stated as he crossed the living room, where Zayn and Perrie were currently cuddled up on the couch, watching some trashy TV show Harry had never really shown any interest in. Perrie smiled up at him, cooed out a thank you and that was that.

Harry looked miserable most of the time but today he looked extra miserable. He was currently wrapping the thick scarf around his neck and after he was finished, Perrie linked their arms and talked animatedly about how much fun they would have. Harry doubted that. It was December 15th and the whole group of friends was set to meet at an advent market because puppy eyes Liam had to ask for it. Not even Harry could say no to someone like him.  
  
It was heavily snowing as the group of friends reunited. Harry stuck to Zayns’ side at all times because the crowd at the advent market was huge and he didn’t really like it. He kept his head lowered and mostly looked at the ground, only sometimes looking up when Perrie wanted to show him something especially cute (at least in her opinion, but Harry didn’t really think that the one piece of trash she gushed over looked different than all the other pieces of trash. Zayn bought them all though because he claimed that he liked how Perries eyes lit up whenever he got her a present. Harry wanted to throw up).  
  
“Let’s get something to eat and drink!” Niall cheered out and the group agreed after two hours in the cold already. They all needed something to warm them up and Harry was quite surprised about the fact that they hadn’t lost anyone so far. All of them gathered around one of the small round tables and sighed happily as frozen fingers touched the warm porcelain of the mugs.  
“Mate, my fingers are so cold I don’t think I can move them anymore!” Liam whined.  


Perrie tugged at Harrys’ arm (he had refused to get something to drink) and motioned him to follow her.  
“What are we doing?” he asked as they were out of sight and looked back kind of worried because Zayn was back there and Zayn was supposed to keep him safe.  
  
“Just wanted to buy some strawberries with chocolate and didn’t want to go on my own.” Perrie pulled Harry with her and he thought that maybe they should have asked the rest of the group if they wanted something as well but it was already too late. They came to a stop in front of a small stand filled with chocolate covered fruits, gingerbread hearts, caramelized almonds and all kind of sweets and lollipops. Perrie happily chatted away with the old lady at the register about what she wanted and Harry zoned out, until he heard the old lady say: “I do believe this is for you, young man.”  
She handed him a paper bag and Harrys’ heart dropped because this can’t be happening again. He thought it was over. Harry wanted to deny it but the woman with the crinkled eyes and white hair insisted that whatever the content of the bag was should be his. So Harry accepted it with a silently muttered “Thank you” and kept the bag close to his chest, never opening it once. Perrie looked like a kid on Christmas morning that wanted to unwrap its presents but wasn’t allowed to until after breakfast when she looked at the bag. No one questioned what he had with him after he came back but knowing looks were exchanged at the table. Harry made sure to keep extra distance between him and Louis from there on that evening.  
  
Later on, when he had finally arrived in the safety of his room, he dared to see the content of the bag. On the inside was a big gingerbread heart, completely colored in red with a white and sloppy (but by now all too familiar) handwriting in marzipan on top of it:

_You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours._

The heart found its place right next to the box of chocolate, in the deepest depth of his closet.

December 16th was a slow day at the coffee shop. Harry was tired and felt like there was a cold coming his way. His nose had been running ever since he rolled out of bed this morning and there was a dull pain throbbing in the back of his head. He wasn’t able to call in sick at work though, because Eleanor already did that and Liam had a nice day planned for him and Sophia that he wouldn’t want to ruin for them. And obviously he couldn’t leave Niall all on his own at the shop.  
There were currently eight customers launching around in the comfortable chairs and Harry didn’t pay them much attention. He did small stuff behind the counter, like cleaning of the surfaces or washing and drying some mugs. Niall skipped around the shop, talked to the old couple that visited the shop every other day and looked at Niall like they wanted to adopt him (they always left the best tips though) and refilled the stacks of sugar packets, straws and napkins.  
  
He didn’t mind being at the register when Niall was within his sight and there was not really much going on. Under these conditions he did mind being at the register though when there was a Louis Tomlinson walking in and ready to order his coffee.  
  
“Hello Harry!” the small man beamed at him and leaned his elbows against the counter. “How are you on this lovely day today?”  
Louis was a liar, Harry thought, because the sky was covered in gray clouds and the wind could blow houses away. The weather was anything but lovely.  
  
“G-good.” Harry stammered and god, did he feel like an idiot because he wasn’t even able to force out one word without stuttering. There was a short (and on Harrys’ side of the conversation very awkward) silence between them before Louis gave his order. When Harry told him the amount of money he had to pay, he managed it in one go. He did, however, flinch away as their hands brushed when Louis handed him the money. Louis didn’t mention it.  
  
While Harry busied himself making the coffee, Niall and Louis had a quick chat with each other but Harry didn’t listen.  
“Here’s your coffee!” he murmured and pushed over the paper cup (Louis had ordered his coffee to-go much to Harrys’ relief) and the boy lifted it.  
“Cheers!” he smiled and then leaned in a little closer, didn’t lower his voice though: “I just want to know you better now.”  
  
Harry froze and Niall snorted in the background. “Mate did you just quote a Taylor Swift song to Harry?”  
Louis just smiled gently at Harry before turning around, shooting a quick wave into Nialls’ general direction before leaving the store.

Harry was used to the nightmares. After all these months he would probably miss them. When his therapist asked him if they still occurred, he’d say no. The curly-haired lad was pretty sure though that Zayn liked to have long phone calls with her and tell her that yes, Harry did actually still have them pretty much every night and no, there wasn’t much progress even after all these months.  
So Harry got used to falling asleep to harsh blue eyes glaring at him, hands clawing at him, beating him, slicing his skin. In his dreams he was running and couldn’t escape, cried loud for help but no one would listen to him. He could see his face and always the eyes, the blue eyes. The worst thing about it was that when he woke up, he knew that it wasn’t a dream but a memory of the past. It still haunted him and always would. No matter how many therapy sessions he would take in his life, those images flashing before his inner eyes would never leave his mind.  
This night though when he fell asleep, he dreamed of blue eyes again, but instead of the all too familiar harsh once it were gentle once, accompanied by brown hair (which was strange because Adams hair was black), a beaming real smile (Harry couldn’t even remember how a nice smile from Adam looked like) and a high voice (but Adams’ voice was deep). In his dream those eyes didn’t show any anger and there was always a Taylor Swift tune playing in the background while the eyes watched him and small gentle hands touched him, left him little presents behind. Needless to say, Harry was very confused when he woke up the next day, but also very well-rested.

It had all started when Harry was 14 years old. He bumped into a guy on the street, headphones in his ears and his eyes on his phone as he was writing out a text to send to his friend Zayn. They both had been best friends since they were put together in the same group back in kindergarten. Although Zayn was over a year older and therefore always one class ahead of Harry, they both tried to hang out as much as possible, inside and out of school.  
Of course Harry was about to apologize as he crashed into the person in front of him, because that was how his mum had raised him but when he looked up, all words were caught in his throat because in front of him stood the most gorgeous person he had ever seen.  
Adam was his name, as he had found out afterwards and he was 18 years old. His hair was black, just like Zayns’, but he wore it longer. He had ice-blue eyes and a line of straight and pearly white teeth that he flashed at the younger boy who was so very mesmerized. Harry had known since a young age that he was different than other boys and actually preferred blokes over birds and Adam had pretty much been everything that his young teenager mind could have come up with back then. After he had finally managed to stammer out an apologies he was convinced that he would never see the boy again but faith was on his side (or at least that’s what he thought back then. Nowadays he knows that faith was anything but on his side).  
  
Only a few days later he bought ice-cream at his favorite store before he went to the park, where he was supposed to meet up with Zayn. It turned out that Adam worked at the ice-cream shop and that he more than happily gave Harry his ice-cream for free with a suggestive wink. It was what his wet dreams were made out of for a lot of nights. Zayn had loved to tease him about his crush that he had developed but Harry was too far gone for this boy as to care about it.  
  
Things went pretty well for a while. They started hanging out together, the age differences not a problem between them and soon after they started to date. But because there was kind of a gap that could be frowned upon from society, they decided to keep it for themselves. Only when they became boyfriends Harry made it official to his family. His family had always been supportive of him, had known since the beginning that their little boy liked men but they weren’t too happy about his decision on who to date. Harry however ignored their warnings, claiming that Adam was perfect.  
And for a certain time that was true. He waited forever for Harry to be ready to have his first kiss, took him out on romantic dates and presented him with little gifts for no reason. Something that wasn’t well with Harry was that Adam was very jealous. He tried to have the younger boy all to himself and wanted to cut the strings of Harrys’ and Zayns’ friendship. Harry started to sneak out occasionally just to meet up with his friend, who started to worry.  
  
“Do you think it’s such a good idea to be with him?” Zayn had asked one evening as they lay on the soft grass in the park, watching the sun set behind the houses while Harry picked some daisies.  
“Yes, it is. He’s the best I could have ever had.”  


At the age of sixteen Harry moved in together with Adam, in a small flat at the other end of town. His parents didn’t like it very much, ordered him to stay, but Harry was too head over heels for the boy to listen to them. It was his worst mistake.  
Adam started to drink. It wasn’t much at first, but enough for him to not be able to properly talk or walk anymore. Harry asked him to stop, but his pleas were ignored. He tugged his drunken boyfriend into bed a lot of times and kissed those bitter tasting lips goodnight, before taking his pillow and sleeping on the couch because the smell made him feel sick. Then Adam demanded for him to stop going to school. At this time Harry had close to no contact to his family and Zayn left, because his mobile phones disappeared and whenever he wanted to go out to meet them, Adam came along with something for them to do and Harry had been so young and naïve to choose him over them.  
  
The first punch didn’t happen until Harry had dropped out of school. He was close to turning seventeen and had made dinner for Adam, but his boyfriend was running late. When he came home, completely drunk of his ass, Harry started to scream at him. He doesn’t remember much, only that he spent the night locked away in the bathroom, crying. He never left though. From there on it only got worse. In the beginning Adam had only been drunk when he hit him, but soon it was a regular event.  
Harry didn’t clean the flat properly, he got hit.  
Harrys’ cooking didn’t taste just like Adam wanted it, there was a punch to the eye.  
Harry tried to get out of the flat, there were hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing tight until he cried for mercy.  
The hitting was something that Harry became accustomed to, the bruises easy to hide. The night however, that Adam took what Harry didn’t want to give to him for such a long time was nothing Harry could ever get used to. Simply put, he had been raped. Not once or twice, but so many times that he stopped counting. Rough fingers had gripped his hips so tightly and it always felt like he was torn in to. At the age of eighteen, Harry Styles was not himself anymore. He became a slave, for cleaning and personal pleasure and sometimes even Adams’ friends. His tears had dried a long time ago and his knees were always bruised from only being allowed to crawl on the floor.  
It was his neighbor, an old man that finally made it all stop. Mid-June Harry accidently broke a plate and Adam bound him to the bed. Harry had thought that he’d hit him with the belt again, something he was used to by now, but instead he got a knife from the kitchen. It was big and shiny and to this day Harry was still not able to handle seeing someone with a big knife in his hand. He had screamed and trashed around while Adam started slicing his skin, telling him how much of a failure he was. A knock on the door had stopped them and Adam, for Harrys’ luck, had opened it. Harry was near the point of passing out back then because of the blood loss, but he remembered policemen and paramedics, a lot of screaming that was neither from Adam or him and pain, so much pain.  


Adam was put into jail for a long time, the trial against him ended after Harry already turned nineteen, and after the dreadful night he was reunited with his family and with Zayn. It took him a lot of time to let someone come close to him again, but he managed. He couldn’t, however, stay in town anymore because too many places reminded him of Adam and that was why Zayn, now having finished school already, moved with him to London. Harry was close to turning twenty now, over one and a half years had passed since he was freed and still to this day he had a hard time letting anyone near himself.  
He promised himself that after he woke up in the hospital, anxious and tired but so happy to finally be saved, that he would never fall in love again because love only meant fear and pain.  
  
(He obviously hadn’t thought about Louis in his plan because this boy was on his best way to fuck his promise up and Harry was so scared.)

Harry had his freedom for the rest of advent or well, at least until the 20th when Zayn walked into the flat with two golden envelopes in his hand.  
“They are from Louis.” He explained and handed Harry the one with his name written on it in the front and yes, he definitely knew the handwriting by now. He watched as Zayn opened his and read out loud the invitation to Louis’ twenty-second birthday party. Harry wanted to roll into a ball when he realized how much older the other man actually was.”I think it would be fun.” Zayn stated. “You’re going?”  
  
Harry shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.” And maybe he just imagined Zayns’ face dropping just a little bit at that, but whatever. “I’m sure you’ll have fun without me as well.”  
  
When he went to his room, he ripped his envelope open and true to his suspicion there was a small sticky note placed on his invitation.

_Come back and tell me why I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time. And meet me there tonight and let me know that it's not all in my mind._

December 24th was anything but calm for Harry. He had to work at the coffee shop and the crowd today was huge, gigantic, enormous. You get the point. He only came home at 7 p.m. because they closed earlier and found Zayn in black skinny jeans and a nice button-down that underlined his skin tone.  
  
“You look good.” Harry stated as he walked by to get to the kitchen, grabbing an apple because he hadn’t had a decent meal today yet and was way too lazy to actually cook.  
  
“It’s still not too late to join me, mate.”  
  
Harry just shook his head. “That will never happen. But have fun.”  
Zayn left shortly afterwards and the curly-haired lad threw himself on the couch, watching whatever shitty television program there was to see at Christmas Eve. He should call his mother later tonight and talk to her for a while.  
Hours passed and the clock just hit ten when there was a knock on Harrys’ door. His heartbeat started to pick up as the knocks didn’t stop. He thought about turning the lights and TV off and pretending that he wasn’t home, but whoever stood outside was clearly not stupid enough to fall for that trick. Harry slowly crept closer to the door, in hopes of whoever was out there might give up and leave before he could get this far.  
Their door didn’t have a peephole which didn’t ease the tension in his back at all. Anyone could be out there right now. It was most likely some random guy or girl or maybe his nice neighbors who wanted to wish him a merry Christmas. Worst case scenario was that Harry would open up the door and in front of him would stand Adam in all his glory, the knife in his hand. Harrys’ hands shook as he reached for the doorknob and he closed his eyes, literally throwing the door open to get it over with. When there was no sound from whoever was standing in front of him, he slowly opened his eyes again to stand in front of Louis, and he should have fucking guessed it. The boy was twirling a freaking red tulip in his hand (and did Harry really think that all these tulips were coincidence back then?) and had a shy smile plastered on his face.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be at your birthday party?” Harry blurted out.  
  
Louis just snorted. “Oh please. Those guys can party without me just as well as with me.” He slightly whipped up and down on his toes and bit his lip and Harry gave him a quick once-over. Instead of having his hair swooped to the side, he had it in a quiff tonight. He wore vans without socks (which must have been freezing), dark skinny jeans and a T-Shirt with a black blazer thrown over it. To sum it up, he looked quite handsome.  
  
“I was hoping for you to come tonight.”  
Harry blinked several times and his hands were still shaking because there might not be Adam in his hallway but there is Louis and Louis hasn’t hurt him so far but he wanted a date with Harry and Harry doesn’t do dates because dates lead to love and love leads to pain and Harry is so scared.  
  
“Won’t you ask me inside?” And Harry is used to obey to orders so he opens his door and steps aside, nearly falls over as the tremors spread out from his hands over his whole body and now Louis is inside and there’s no way to get him out again and he’s alone with him, alone.  
  
Louis must have seen the terror in his eyes because he takes a step back, then another one. “Harry, it’s okay, really. I don’t know why you’re scared, but you don’t have to be scared of me. Won’t hurt you, Harry. Zayn threatened to scalp me if I left the slightest of marks on your skin and I mean that’s cool and everything but I’d really rather not have that happen to me.”  
  
And Zayn knows, Zayns’ been in on the plan all along. He probably knows that Louis and Harry are now alone in the flat and he’s not here to keep him safe. Does Zayn not want him anymore?  
  
“How about we go to the living room, alright? I’ll make you a cup of tea. No offence, but you sure look like you need it. Don’t worry, I’m a tea expert. You may be good at making coffee but I promise that I can make the best tea in the whole country.” And then he skips into the kitchen and Harry follows awkwardly, sits down on the couch and waits for Louis to reappear with to mugs in his hands. He sets one down on the coffee table in front of Harry, careful to not touch the other lad and chooses to sit down on the floor.  
“I was quite sad that you didn’t react to all of my notes. I mean you’re a smart guy, I’m sure you figured out that it was me who sent them. In case you didn’t though, surprise. I really hope you’re not disappointed.”  
  
Harry just stares and Louis shuts up, just smiles at him instead and takes a sip from his tea, sticking out his tongue and making a face because it is still so hot and he just really burnt his mouth.They sat in silence for a while, long enough for Harry to calm his shaking hands, but not his nerves.  
  
“I-I don’t think I can do this.” And fuck, he wasn’t sure with Zayn but this time he can literally see Louis’ face drop. “I’m sorry but. But there was someone before you who fucked me up pretty bad and I just don’t think that I’m able to ever do as much as date again.” And Harry doesn’t even know where these words are coming from or why he’s telling Louis all of this, but he is and now there’s no taking the words back so he might as well continue: “And you seem like such a sweet guy, Louis. And you’re pretty and I swear if you were here before he was, then I’m sure I would have said yes to you right from the start but I can’t because right now I can’t even trust Zayn one hundred percent on my worst days and I am messed up, I’m a freak Louis and I don’t know if this can ever be fixed.” Harry feels exhausted after he’s finished with his little speech and Louis’ face went from disappointment to understanding and now that Harry looks at him and his blue eyes and he sees Louis and not Adam anymore. He feels like his heart could burst at any moment.  
  
“I mean I figured that something happened, but I don’t know how bad it is and I get it. I get that you need time and maybe you don’t want a romantic relationship and that’s okay, but would you maybe like to try and be friends? Because I’d really like that.”  
  
Harry feels himself nod. He thinks he can try that. “There are rules though!” he manages to croak out.  
  
“Anything.” Louis replies.  
  
“Don’t- I don’t know how to deal with body contact very well, so no touching. Absolutely no touching. When I don’t want to talk about something, don’t press on the subject. Never sneak up on me from behind and dear lord please don’t ever show up drunk.”  
  
Louis nods along with a serious expression. “Do the others know?” he asks. “About what happened?” And Harry shakes his head because no, only Zayn, Perrie and his family know and that’s how it should stay for a while. “What’s your favorite TV show?” Louis asks out of the blue and Harry looks puzzled.  
“Doctor Who.”  
  
Louis beams at that, claims that it’s his favorite too and that his favorite Doctor is the tenth, while Harry has to admit that his is the eleventh and Louis just thinks that this is great because now they have something in common that they can talk about for months. Harry thinks that it sounds quite nice because he never had anything in common with Adam.  
  
Louis and Harry end up watching Doctor Who, Harry on the couch, his senses still on alarm because there’s a boy in his living room that wants to date him and Louis on the floor, looking relaxed. Harry has to admit that Louis makes the best tea he’s ever had, but he doesn’t tell him that until five months into their slowly establishing friendship.

Louis and Harry turn into LouisandHarry and sometimes Zayn jokes about how jealous he is of Louis, but then again Harry knows that Zayn is happy because not only does he get to spend more time with Perrie but he also sees how Harry changes, becomes a better person, more open, less anxious. He starts to be the shadow of whom he used to be and that’s a lot because before Louis he was nothing.  
Louis and he meet up for Doctor Who marathons (always in Harrys’ flat though) or go out and drink some coffee, talk about the world and all their friends. Harry also tries to get closer to Liam and Niall, meets up with them outside of work without Zayn by his side or has girly movie nights with Sophia, Eleanor and Perrie.  


The first time he tells Louis what has happened to him is rather unintentional, in the middle of March. Louis fell asleep on the couch during one of their TV show marathons and Harry decides to let him stay there because Zayn is in the flat and he kind of trusts Louis in this really strange way. So he goes to sleep in his own bed, but just because his nightmares start to decrease doesn’t mean that they are completely over, so he wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming and trashing and Zayns’ there to calm him down, but also Louis in the doorway and all Harry sees are blue eyes, mean blue eyes.  
He begs for him to not hit him, to please leave him alone and there are tears in Louis’ eyes that Harry will never know about. The next morning Zayn sits them both down on the kitchen table and joins them for breakfast while announcing that Harry should tell Louis what is going on. So Harry does under tears, talks about his ex-boyfriend, the beating, the constant abuse, the rape. He spares him the details but in the end Louis is in tears. “I’d like to hug you Harry, I’d like to hug you so tight right now.”  
  
“Please don’t.” Harry whispers and Louis nods.  
“Of course not. I’d never do anything that you wouldn’t want.” With one hand he embarrassingly wipes his tears away but the other hand is still lying on the table and Harry is surprising both of them by taking it and gently squeezing it. The touch is only short but Zayns’ smile is smug and Louis’ eyes are glistening with hope and Harry feels really good about himself.

There are still bad days when he is hit with anxiety and doesn’t want to see Louis. The feather-haired boy accepts that. So Harry is lying on the couch while Zayn cooks dinner (“A good dinner is the key to everything.”).  
“Do you think he’s good?” Harry asks timidly and Zayn doesn’t even have to ask who he’s talking about.  
“Harry, I wouldn’t have even allowed this whole sappy Taylor Swift notes and present thing if I didn’t think that Louis was a good lad. That guy studies creative writing at University. He couldn’t have been bad, even if he tried.” And Harry hums in agreement (but also wants to snort because really, artsy Zayn and his beliefs that whoever is involved in art can only be a good person is so naïve) and remembers something. Later that night, after a delicious dinner from Zayn (he was right though, it really kind of lifted his mood) he goes to the back of his closet and pulls out a small box of chocolate, his favorite kind of chocolate. He eats every praline.

In summer Louis asks Harry to go swimming with him, but Harry refuses.  
“I don’t want them to see my scars, Lou.” He admits silently. They were on nickname basis by then and Harry couldn’t help but notice that smile that Louis smiled just for him every time he called him Lou. He also adored that frown on Louis’ face when he called him boobear, because that’s what his mum used to call him and everyone is teasing him about it.  
  
“Then we’ll go by night. I know this lake we can go to, no one will see your scars. I promise, Haz.” And Harry really wants to agree because the thought of going swimming with Louis alone in the dark gives him butterflies but also it scares him because he’d really be alone with him and undressed and no, he can’t do that.  
  
“And what if we invite the others? Make it a swim party of some sort.”  
  
“But the others will ask about my scars.” Harry says, feeling way more comfortable with that idea though.  
Louis grins lopsided at him. “Trust me, when Zayn and I are finished with them, they won’t dare to say a word.”  
  
Harry knows that it was just a joke, but the simple thought of violence makes him flinch and Louis grin drops right of his face.  
“No Harry, I’m sorry. God, I’d never hit anyone and neither would Zayn.”  
  
“I know.” Harry replies in a weak voice. A week later they find themselves at the lake Louis had talked about, it is a hot summer night and as Louis promised, no one asks about his scars. Louis told him afterwards that he bribed them all with chocolate.

“Nice work with the Christmas decoration.” Liam says and Harry can’t stop smiling as the other lad pats him on the back, not even flinching. “Thanks. I hope the customers will like it as well!”  
  
Eleanor rolls her eyes. She’s sat on the counter and Liam gives her a scolding look, but doesn’t say anything about it. “Of course they’ll love it.”  
  
Later that day Louis comes into the shop, brings frosty air and some snowflakes with him, that are stuck in his hair (“I bloody forgot to bring a hat, how stupid is that? Oh, nice Christmas decoration by the way.”). Harry smiles so brightly that his dimple pops out and Louis pokes it, causing the younger boy to giggle. He has no troubles at all serving customers at the register today, not even when there’s a queue building up because Louis likes his Christmas decoration and that’s all he secretly wanted.

Two weeks before Christmas, Harry finds himself in two different crises. First of all, he doesn’t know what to get Louis for Christmas and his birthday and second he thinks he’s fallen in love with him and he should be scared, but really it’s scarier that he’s not even half as scared as he feels like he should be. Zayn watches him in amusement as he’s pacing up and down the living room.  
“You know, you could give him your heart. That’d be the best present you could get for him.” He muses, only half joking and Harry stops his pace, looks up at Zayn and runs to him to hug him, because this might be the best idea he’s ever had.  
  
And yes, Harry hugged Zayn because apparently Harry was a hugger. The first time that Louis had hugged him, he stood there frozen, wanted to scream and cry and was so scared, but he got used to it and started to actually enjoy it. Now he went around, gave hugs to Niall and Liam and even sometimes Josh, who he still wasn’t too close with. Especially Zayn suffered from it, as he was mostly Harrys’ victim. It had taken him until September to actually give hugs to other people and not only receive them but since then he was happy to share them with his friends.  
It was also September that he figured was the right time to tell them, because they were so accepting of him and often told him how proud they were about how he turned out, without even knowing the background story. So Harry had sat them all down in the flat and instead of talking about it, he had printed out one of the newspaper articles and handed it out to everyone. Niall was the first who had put two and two together and Harry thinks that he’d never seen so many tears in one room at one night. No one treated him different than they did before. He was really thankful for the friends he had in his life.

“Would you mind if I give you your present earlier?” Harry shyly mutters on December 21st, excitedly bouncing on his heels as Louis opens up the door to his flat. He gestures for Harry to come in and the boy kicks of his shoes and sheds his jacket, lets it drop to the floor carelessly. Louis’ flat has turned into a second home for him.  
“Whatever suits you.” Louis smirks. There are two mugs of tea and a plate of cookies on his coffee table and Harry thinks that he loves this boy so much. His hands are shaking, something that barely happens nowadays and his heart is racing but for a different reason than it used to.  
“I want to give it to you now because it’s kind of important.” And he’s holding out a brown paper bag to Louis. The boy furrows his eyebrows as he looks inside and takes out something wrapped in red and green wrapping paper. He doesn’t even have to unwrap half of it to know that it’s a gingerbread heart that has written

_You'll be mine and I'll be yours._

on it in the exact handwriting of his. “I don’t understand.”  
  
“I want to be your boyfriend!” Harry blurts out. “That is, if you want me to as well!”  
  
And there is a grin on Louis’ face, bright enough to outshine the sun and Louis is saying “Oh my God” and “Of course I want that, Harry!” and next thing he knows Louis is in his arms, hugging him tight to his chest and there is a feeling in Harrys’ chest that feels warm and nice.  
  
“We have to go slow, though.” Harry says and Louis nods into the crook of his neck. “Sure Haz, we’ll go slow. As slow as you’d like. And if we go slower as a snail, that’s fine with me as well.” And Harry giggles because Louis is so stupid and he thinks he loves him so much.

They spend Louis’ birthday meeting up with his family for breakfast, that includes four sisters and two other ones that are on their way and Harry is a little bit imitated by that many girls around him but it turns out that they love his curls and that’s apparently what makes him automatically cooler than their brother.  
  
In the afternoon they meet some friends and in the evening they stay at Louis’ flat, just the two of them and a stack of DVD’s. Louis is about to sit on the floor, because that what he’s done for the last year, but Harry gently calls out his name and lifts the thick blanket that he’s cuddled under.  
“I-I think we should try cuddling.” And Louis asks him if he’s sure. Harry nods but the uncertainty is clear as day in his eyes and Louis slowly crawls up on the couch, tells Harry that if it gets too much for him he just has to say a word and Louis will be on the floor in a second. But Harry bites through the feeling of fear that bubbles up in him and he’s very glad about that, because at the end of the day he’s lying next to a beautiful boy and their legs are intertwined, their sides touching and Louis’ head falls on Harrys’ shoulder comfortably as the younger boy dares to move his arm around Louis’ shoulders. The evening is perfect.

On New Years’ Eve they share their first kiss, right at midnight. Everyone had shouted the countdown and while it meant for most of them that there was a new year to start, to Harry it meant gathering the courage to finally kiss Louis on the lips and it was one of the best decisions he’s ever made, because Louis’ lips are soft and like they fit perfectly and Louis smiles against Harry.  
  
Later that night they are cuddled up next to each other in bed, Louis being the small spoon because Harry insists on sharing a bed that night (and maybe he likes pushing himself a little too far, but he trusts Louis with his heart so it’s okay). Nightmares sometimes still occur, but they are rare so Harry thinks he’ll be okay with Louis pressed up against his front, a small ball wrapped up in his arms that means no harm.  
  
They whisper “I love you”‘s in the dark air for the first time that night and Harry closes his eyes with a smile. He’s nearly asleep when he hears Louis again. “Harry, you know what?”  
  
“Mhm?” Harry asks sleepily, nuzzles his nose against Louis neck and inhales deeply.  
  
“Everything has changed.”  
  
There’s an unattractive snort escaping Harrys’ mouth and next thing they know they are both in fits of giggles. They don’t dare to kiss each other on the lips again, because Louis doesn’t want to push too far and neither does Harry, but they whisper silent goodnights and sleep tights to each other, before peacefully falling asleep.  
  
Harrys’ last thought is that maybe Taylor Swift might be his favorite artist again.


End file.
